


Shut Up And Kiss Me

by TheForgottenDreams



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: 5 + 1 thing, 5 and 1 thing, F/M, Fluff, Fluffy, Kissing, M/M, Multi, Obliviousness, Stupid Boys being Stupid, boys, five times they almost kiss and one time they actually do, how many times can i make these two almost kiss, les amis being les amis, there are some text messages in it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-31 00:01:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3956842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheForgottenDreams/pseuds/TheForgottenDreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Enjolras and Grantaire almost kiss and the one time they actually do.<br/>With scenes and text messages.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re in love with me?” Grantaire asked, his voice surprisingly clear for someone who had just woken.<br/>“Shit.” Enjolras said, his face heating.<br/>“You think you’re in love with me?” Grantaire asked again.<br/>“There’s no getting out of this, is there?”<br/>“Nope. I heard every word after, ‘how did I fall for you’.” Grantaire replied.<br/>“Then yes.” Enjolras said, “I know, I am in love with you. Just like I know the sky is blue and the grass is green and that my name is Enjolras, and that I am in love with you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shut Up And Kiss Me

“So to review,” Enjolras said, his tone full of his usual authority and confidence as he spoke to his friends gathered in the back room of the Café Musain, “’Ferre you’re to find out those facts, Couf and Jehan are on slogans and drafting the text for the pamphlets, Feuilly and Bahorel are on banners, Ép is on statistics, Cosette and Marius are on proofing and that leave Grantaire and myself on posters.” 

The drunk in the back lifted his bottle up in toast and grinned as he spoke, “Anything for you, Enjy.”

Enjolras chose not to respond to that, his heart was beating too quickly and his face was too hot to deal with Grantaire directly. The rest of the group nodded and muttered their agreements to Enjolras’ earlier recap, “Musichetta and Bossuet are ill, Joly is fretting too much to think straight and so they’re concentrating on getting better.” Enjolras added. 

“That’s about it.” Combeferre agreed, pushing his glasses up his face as he started backing away his notebooks. Beside him Courfeyrac tapped his phone to stop the recorder they used in case one of the members said something they wanted to revist later on. 

“Alright, any questions or protests?” Enjolras asked. He was half-hoping Grantaire would object to poster-making with him so he could get out of that. It’s not that he didn’t want to help make posters. He did. Very much so.

That was his problem.

“Nope.” Courfeyrac answered, he was bouncing in his seat and his smile was full of mischief and his eyes were bright so Enjolras immediately knew he was plotting something.

“Then the meeting is dismissed.” Enjolras said and then he narrowed his eyes at Courfeyrac. Though the meeting had just officially ended no one made any move to leave the room and instead general chatter filled their ears. Enjolras turned to Courfeyrac with an exasperated sigh, “What’re you planning Couf?”

“Nothing, o’fearless one.” 

“Courfeyrac, I’ve know you since we were six, I can tell you’re plotting.” Enjolras countered, then added, turning to Combeferre, “’Ferre, isn’t he plotting?”

Combeferre looked at Courfeyrac who was still grinning and bouncing his excess energy off, he then shrugged nonchalantly whilst surreptitiously getting out his phone, he began texting Courfeyrac under the table, “This is just normal Courfeyrac when he’s had ten tonnes of sugar.” 

“You know you’re not supposed to eat lots of sugar after noon, dear.” Jehan turned around from where he had been braiding Cosette’s hair. “We’ll be up all night now.” 

“I’m hyperactive, shoot me, Enjy.” Courfeyrac smiled as his phone buzzed and he got it out to read it, he texted a reply quickly, promising to tell Combeferre his plan later. 

“Don’t call me that.” Enjolras said, frowning, eyes still narrowed and tone weary. 

Their conversation was lulled just as the group around the back table erupted into laughter. The little group consisted of Feuilly, Bahorel, Éponine and lastly, Grantaire – Enjolras’ chest tightened as he looked at the curly haired art student sat in the centre, though he would deny it if anyone asked No one did. 

“Hey, what’s so funny?” Courfeyrac hollered over to them.

There was a faint reply of ‘your mum’ from Bahorel at the same time as Éponine spoke, “Grantaire’s dance class story.”

Enjolras choked on his water when the words registered and Combeferre patted him in the back half-heartedly.

“Go on.” Courfeyrac insisted. 

“Is our darling Apollo okay?” Grantaire frowned. 

Enjolras felt his face flush and he tried to nod, still coughing. 

“He’s more than alright, go on about your dance lesson.” Courfeyrac waved his hand dismissively in Enjolras’ direction. The blond shot him a glare as his eyes streamed and his throat burned. 

“We all want to know now.” Cosette added, even Marius had stopped staring at her adoringly to listen to Grantaire’s story.

“It’s really not that funny.” Grantaire said.

“It’s not.” Bahorel agreed. 

“It is.” Éponine smiled, “You’re only saying it because it was you.”

“Just get on with it.” Combeferre said.

“Don’t you dare...” Bahorel warned, his cheek flushing red. 

“Now I have to ‘Rel,” Grantaire grinned, “And Enjy is fine?”

Enjolras had now stopped choking and instead was glaring at his water. Though his eyes were still red and he made a coughing sound every few moments.

“He’ll survive, he’s a big boy.” Courfeyrac answered with a dismissive wave in the blonde’s direction, Enjolras glared at him again, “But go on, tell me more.” 

“Basically,” Grantaire started, before his friends could sing Grease at him (it had happened before and it had been horrifying, Enjolras was scarred for life). “Bahorel, here decided to tag along to dance class so he could watch the girls, which is utterly shameless. So, he was sat in the corner because there were too many people for pairs, I was dancing with my dance partner, Adeline.”

“Who is terrifying and I think I’m in love with.” Bahorel added. 

“The windows were open because it gets hot in the studio and because it’s summer there are insects. This little, tiny, baby spider…” Grantaire started grinning, Bahorel interrupted. 

“It was huge, like the size of my hand!” He protested, his eyes wide and scared. Next to him, Feuilly patted his hand gently and murmured something comforting. 

“Was not! Anyway, this little spider crawled in the window and then landed on Bahorel. Well, Adeline being Adeline, pointed it out and then Bahorel, who I never knew was arachnophobic, starts screaming and shouting and freaking out. He was on the verge of tears, it was like he was a little child.” Grantaire was laughing now, “So then Adeline just marched forward and punched him.”

“I was in shock! She’s even smaller than R and I’m me!” Bahorel exclaimed, gesturing to his over six foot body and all his muscles.

“Then she took the spider off him and,” Grantaire continued.

“Glared at me like I had killed all her family singlehandedly!” Bahorel interjected again.

“And, yelled at him about how precious spiders are for the rest of the lesson.” Grantaire finished, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

They all started laughing, Bahorel going bright red. 

“Wow, Bahorel, wow.” Courfeyrac hooted. 

Even Enjolras was laughing. Grantaire watched his face as it creased into happiness, his blue eyes shone with love for his friends and his perfectly white and straight teeth were shown as he chortled. Combeferre was grinning and shaking his head, Courfeyrac had fallen on the floor with Jehan knelt over him, his face hidden by his hair, though his shoulders were shaking. Cosette was giggling, as was Marius, Éponine was crying with laughter, Feuilly was on the verge of tears and Bahorel just look sheepishly at his friends. 

After a few minutes their laughter started to die down, before Éponine asked, “Hey, Bahorel, if you have arachnophobia how do you face the World Wide Web?”

That set them off laughing again. 

“Actually, no you mention it, it makes sense now why you refuse to watch Spiderman.” Feuilly cackled, the others joining in. 

It took them longer to settle down and even then there were a few sniggers every now and then. 

“I think we need to meet this Adeline.” Courfeyrac suggested, “She’d fit right in.” 

“I called dibs!” Bahorel raised his hand.

“She sounds interesting.” Enjolras nodded.

Grantaire’s smile dimmed slightly and his tone got colder, “I’ll try to convince her, to come to the next meeting. She be a valuable asset for you Enjy. She’d bring a fresh new angle on cynism.” 

“Grantaire…” Enjolras frowned slightly, noticing the change in Grantaire. 

“Enjolras, why’d you choke earlier?” Éponine asked, cutting him off, eyes narrowed, she stealthily put her phone back in her bag, glancing at Courfeyrac briefly as the drama student got up off the floor.

Enjolras look at her and felt his face get hot, he replied after a moment, “I didn’t know Grantaire dances.”

“It’s only been for the last five years.” Grantaire snorted. 

“I’m sorry, I never realised.” Enjolras frowned. 

“It’s fine, Enjolras.” Grantaire replied, his tone was sharper and the use of his proper name made Enjolras aware he had offended or hurt the brunet. 

“Show me?” Enjolras blurted, not knowing what he was saying, but just that he had to make it up to Grantaire.

Grantaire stopped mid-reach for his bottle of wine, “Excuse me?”

“Show me some of your dances.” Enjolras breathed deeply and swallowed the lump in his throat. The rest of the group was watching them, their gazes flying back and forth like a tennis match. Enjolras felt his cheeks colour, “I mean, only if you want to.” 

“Okay.” Grantaire stood up.

“What?”

“I said, okay.” Grantaire smiled slightly, “I only do pairs dancing, so get up. You volunteered yourself to be my pair, congratulations, do you want a medal?” 

“Who else knows how to dance?” Grantaire asked, “I can’t be the only one.” 

“I can give it a go.” Éponine smiled.

“I’ll pair with you Ép, I know some of the basics.” Combeferre offered, she looked surprised by nodded with a small smile. 

“The nuns taught me how.” Cosette said bluntly. She was always saying things like this and anytime the group met her adoptive-father, he also said things like that, but so bluntly that the group wasn’t sure if it was a long and elaborate hoax thought up by the two of them or if it was true. 

“I’ll dance with you.” Marius offered. Cosette smiled at him lovingly in return and kissed his cheek lightly.

“Jehan, it's like catching lightning, the chances of finding someone like you, it's one in a million, the chances of feeling the way we do and with every step together, we just keep on getting better. So, can I have this dance?” Courfeyrac asked. 

“That was sweet.” Bahorel said and then asked, “What poem is that?”

“High School Musical Three.” Jehan replied, taking Courfeyrac’s outstretched hand with a smile, his eyes never leaving Courfeyrac’s. 

“Oh.” He replied.

“I’m not dancing, I’m a disaster.” Bahorel said.

“I’ll think of more spider puns to terrorise you with.” Feuilly grinned, they all moved the tables to make a space in the middle.

Feuilly and Bahorel taking their seats on the tables and they hooked an iPod to the speakers in the room as the couples took their places. 

“When I say start will you play the music?” Grantaire asked, Feuilly and Bahorel nodded. Grantaire and Enjolras were in the middle, with Courfeyrac and Jehan to the right, Marius and Cosette to the left and Combeferre and Éponine in the remaining space. “Okay now, please.”

Bahorel pressed the play button with a mischievous smile when the song blasted out: 

“My anaconda don’t, my anaconda don’t, my anaconda don’t want none unless you got buns hun.”

“Bahorel!” Grantaire guffawed, wiping the moisture from his eyes as he turned to look at the law student. 

“Fine, I’ll play the proper, boring music.” Bahorel rolled his eyes. 

They got back into positions. Grantaire pulled Enjolras closer, so their bodies were millimetres apart, he put his arm on Enjolras’ waist, instructing the blond to put his hand on his shoulder. Grantaire then held his other hand out. 

Enjolras was staring at Grantaire, he’d never noticed the depth to his green eyes, never really be close enough too, his glance went to their hands and he found he really liked the mix of their skin colours, his hand pale against Grantaire’s beautiful tanned skin.

“You okay?” Grantaire whispered, his eyebrows bunching together slightly from beneath the thick mess of curls and beanie hat.

“Fine.” Enjolras breathed out, “You?”

“Fine.” Grantaire replied. 

“Ready for the music?” Bahorel asked, breaking their spell and forcing them to look away from each other embarrassed. The others either sent glares at Bahorel or continued watching the Enjolras and Grantaire Show.

“I was born ready.” Someone called.

“I was born to die.” Grantaire muttered. 

“Stop making Lana Del Rey references,” Éponine threatened, “I’ll send you to a counsellor.”

Grantaire rolled his eyes, causing Enjolras to chuckle as Bahorel started the correct music this time and then Grantaire was moving himself and Enjolras back and forth around the space. Enjolras followed Grantaire’s lead, being twirled and moved to Grantaire’s will – it was his domain after all. Their eyes stayed focused on one another as they moved around the space, narrowly missing the other dancing couples. 

Several songs later, the slow dance had turned into a waltz then the foxtrot then quickstep and what now looked like a tango.

Éponine and Combeferre who had danced till their feet hurt (because Combeferre had stood on Éponine’s feet a few times and in retaliation she had kicked him in the shins with her combat boots) went off to the side and began watching Enjolras and Grantaire. They moved in synch, despite Enjolras not being an experienced dancer - though they could see Grantaire was whispering things to him - they twirled around the space like they were meant to just dance. The connection between them was undeniable, they eyes were locked together and they were so focused on each other, Éponine didn’t think they would notice if the building was on fire. 

“When do you think one of them will realised the other is head over heels for them?” Éponine asked absentmindedly. 

Combeferre thought for a moment, “Never.”

Éponine looked at him curiously, “Go on.”

“Grantaire has so many troubles with his confidence, he’d never think anyone could desire him, let alone feel about him the way Enjolras does. And then, Enjolras, he’s one of my best friends, but Gods above, he is oblivious when it comes to people.” Combeferre replied.

“He’s not the most in tune to social interactions.” Éponine agreed.

“I hate saying this but I think we need Courfeyrac to intervene.” Combeferre admitted. 

Éponine laughed. “Gods, we’re screwed then.” 

The last bars of the song played and Grantaire twirled Enjolras before pulling him close, Enjolras’ leg going around Grantaire’s waist before dropping him into a dip. 

“Or not.” Éponine muttered with a raised eyebrow.

Enjolras was breathing heavily, his face so close to Grantaire’s that their noses where almost touching, their breaths intermingled and Enjolras felt an over whelming desire to move up and kiss Grantaire. It seemed Grantaire was think the same thing as he was moving down to Enjolras.

There was a loud clap (from Bahorel) that brought Grantaire back to reality. Grantaire looked up, reminded they were in a public place, surrounded by their friends and the only ones in the middle of their make-shift dance floor. He panicked and let go of Enjolras. The blond hit the floor with an ‘umph’.

“Shit.” Grantaire exclaimed, kneeling down to the blond’s side. He was laid on the floor his eyes opening slowly. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to drop you.” 

Combeferre went over to check Enjolras was okay, Éponine marched over to Bahorel, she started hitting him in the arms and yelling at him.

“It’s fine.” Enjolras laughed slightly, waving Combeferre away. 

“I’m really sorry.” Grantaire repeated. 

“’Taire-bear, I’m fine,” Enjolras replied, his eyes were fully open, though they looked dazed, “You could help me up though, since you’re the reason I’m down here.”

Grantaire offered the blond his hand and pulled him up. Combeferre also got up and the three stood in the middle. 

“Whoah, dizzy.” Enjolras mumbled before stumbling forward, into Grantaire. “Stood up to fast.”

“You hit your head hard.” Combeferre noted verbally. 

“I’m fine.” Enjolras replied, he was still leaning on Grantaire, not noticing he had not moved away, Grantaire had moved his arm around Enjolras’ waist to keep him there. Enjolras frowned. “I have a headache.” 

“Anything else?” 

“I’m dizzy and I feel warm.”

“We best get you home.” Combeferre sighed, choosing not to mention he was practically draped across Grantaire, “Courfeyrac, I’m taking Enjolras home – he needs rest.”

“I’m going to Jehan-baby’s.” Courfeyrac called, kissing Jehan on the cheek.

“Call me ‘Jehan-baby’ again and I will break up with you.” Jehan replied. 

“Urgh, but I didn’t get new ear plugs.” Grantaire groaned, Enjolras turned his face towards to Grantaire and started playing with his black curls. That was the final clue that Enjolras was probably suffering from a mild concussion.

“Stay with ‘Ferre and Enjy, ‘Taire, you can use my room.” Courfeyrac told him.

“Stay with me, won’t you stay with me?” Enjolras sang quietly.

“I’ll probably need the help getting him home and he seems quite attached to you.” Combeferre told him. Watching as Enjolras was curling strands of Grantaire’s hair around his fingers and marvelling at how it looked against his slender fingers.

“If not, you can stay with me.” Éponine smiled sweetly, “Gav is being a nightmare at the minute.”

“I’d rather babysit Enjolras than babysit Gav.” Grantaire told her.

“I’m not a baby.” Enjolras muttered and he stuck his lip out in a pout. 

“You’re acting like a child.” Grantaire retorted. 

“Erm, head injury.” Enjolras pointed out with all the attitude and sass of a twelve year-old.

“Then it’s settled.” Éponine replied, she glanced at Combeferre, silently conveying a message.

“If you need help with Gavroche then I can,” Combeferre said, “After I’ve checked Enjolras properly, of course.” 

“That sounds perfect.” Éponine smiled as she stared at the bespectacled student. 

“Alright with you R?” Combeferre asked.

Grantaire pressed his lips together, thinking of the potential for Combeferre and Éponine – though it was never confirmed, he was almost a hundred percent sure Combeferre liked Éponine in a non-platonic way. He sighed, “Okay.”

“Yay! Sleep over!” Enjolras crooned in Grantaire’s ear.

Grantaire sighed. This would be a long night.

 

The Get Enjy and ‘Taire-Bear Together Chat  
Éponine: Do you think they’ll get together?  
Courfeyrac: Those two?  
Jehan: Sadly not *pouts*  
Feuilly: Nope  
Bahorel: Nada  
Cosette: It’d be nice if they did, but I don’t think so  
Marius: What? They like each other? They’re always yelling…  
Bossuet: No way  
Cosette: Marius, I love you, but you’re oblivious.  
Musichetta: Welcome to Sexual Tension, Pontmercy  
Marius: WHAT?  
Cosette: Dear God, he choke on his blackcurrant juice  
Bahorel: I think we need to educate him.  
Cosette: I like his innocence, leave him alone or else I will skin you alive slowly with a knife, ripping your limbs apart as I go and then I will make a necklace, earrings and a matching bracelet out of your bones.  
Courfeyrac: My hero *claps hands over heart and stares adoringly*  
Jehan: Jewellery from bones…  
Jehan: I need to write about this…  
Bahorel: I’ll admit, I’m a little threatened.  
Feuilly: You can say that again.  
Cosette: Good. *smiles smugly*   
Musichetta: Anyway, you have to keep me updated about Enjolras and Grantaire, did something happen?  
Éponine: Musichetta, I’ll explain in a different chat, this meeting was practically the sexual tension portion of the Enjolras and Grantaire show.  
Musichetta: I can’t wait! XD  
Courfeyrac: They’re the most oblivious idiots I’ve ever met!  
Combeferre: Enjolras does have a minor concussion… Couf, you of all people, know how Enjolras gets when he’s looped up on medicine.  
Joly: CONCUSSION!  
Courfeyrac: It’s the best thing since the invention of glittery fabric  
Joly: HE COULD DIE  
Joly: COMBEFERRE!  
Joly: WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?!   
Joly: COMBEFERRE!!!!  
Joly: HIS LIFE IS AT RISK!  
Éponine: How so?  
Joly: His brain might swell which cause brain damage and the trauma, oh God, the trauma!!!!!!  
Bossuet: Joly, get off your phone, you’re having a panic attack.  
Musichetta: We’ll just have to deal with this. How’d it happen?  
Éponine: In the other chat.   
Éponine: Also, I meant how is Enjolras loopy on medicine the ‘best thing since glittery fabric’? -_- I know how concussions work  
Musichetta: Okay.  
Combeferre: Tell Joly, he is fine besides he had Grantaire there to look after him. I gave R detailed instructions about what to do and to call me if he had any worries.  
Musichetta: Will do.  
Courfeyrac: He acts like a child, Ep.  
Courfeyrac: A very honest child  
Courfeyrac: like the kind of kid that when a cookie is missing from the jar and you look at once will totally give away that they ate the cookie.  
Jehan: We should work on your similes, dear.  
Cosette: So he might tell R?  
Combeferre: I doubt it, he was sleeping when I left him.  
Éponine: Damn it.  
Courfeyrac: You can say that again.  
Éponine: Damn it. Damn it to Hell.  
Courfeyrac: Amen, sister.

 

Enjolras groaned as he woke up, the light in his room was dim, but still bright enough to irritate him. He rolled over, snuggling into the balminess at his side. Whatever he was laid on was soft and warm, it smelt like old books and paint, which the blond found surprisingly comforting, it made his head stop hurting as the gentle rhythm of moved him up and down.

Enjolras frowned at the movement.

He cracked an eye open slowly, before realising he was laid on a person. 

He jolted up and back away from the sleeping body, scrambling to the other edge of the bed and pulling the blankets around him as he peered at the unconscious person. 

Enjolras’ eyes roamed over the thick, inky black curls, the tanned skin, the green hoodie and ripped jeans. He gulped, felt his face heat and forced his gaze to Grantaire’s face. Grantaire made a noise when the blankets were ripped off of him and he began to stir. Enjolras watched as he inhaled deeply, a frown forming between his eyes, before he opened one experimentally. 

His frown grew and he opened both of his eyes. 

“Good morning.” Enjolras murmured. 

Grantaire’s eyes widened and focused on Enjolras, “Morning. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep, I came to check you hadn’t stopped breathing and I guess I fell asleep, I’m human, shoot me.”

“It’s fine Grantaire.” Enjolras mumbled.

“I’m sorry about dropping you, I forgot my place for a second and Bahorel panicked me.”

“It’s fine.” Enjolras repeated. 

“No, I’m so sorry-“

“Grantaire, right now your unnecessary apologies aren’t helping my headache.” Enjolras snapped. He then closed his eyes and took a deep breath, “Sorry, I’m sorry I just… it still hurts.” 

“I’ll get you some medicine.” Grantaire practically jumped up and out of the room.

Enjolras followed more reluctantly. He was in his pyjamas (boxers and a t-shirt) – he had a vague memory of putting them on last night – and his bedhead was in full action. He shuffled into the kitchen as Grantaire turned around with some Paracetamol and a glass of water. Enjolras took them happily.

“I’ll cook breakfast.” Grantaire suggested.

“But, we’re at my place, I should cook.” Enjolras argued half-heartedly.

“You have a minor concussion, you’re in no state to cook.” Grantaire insisted, “It would be my pleasure to cook for you, o’fearless one.”

“Please don’t call me that.” Enjolras groaned, taking his place at the breakfast bar whilst Grantaire started looking for things to cook with. “I’m human just like you ‘Taire, don’t beatify me.” 

“I never said you were a saint.” Grantaire argued in defence, “I went to Greek God, specifically Apollo.” 

“I’m not a God, I’m human Grantaire, I’m not superior to you and you should know it.” Enjolras moaned, covering his head with his arms.

“Fine, you can be a Demi-God, one of Apollo’s children.” Grantaire replied, placing a pan on the stove.

“And you would be a son of Dionysus?” Enjolras asked. 

“If the shoe fits.” Grantaire mumbled.

He started mixing pancake mix and Enjolras quietened down in favour of trying to ease his headache. By the time the pancakes were ready – along with a fruit salad, some chocolate sauce to put on the pancakes – Enjolras’ headache had subsided into a quiet thumping and he was now more awake. They sat at the breakfast bar and eat in comfortable silence for a while.

“Thank you, for staying and making sure I didn’t die. Unlike Combeferre, the traitor.” Enjolras said after a gulp of his orange juice. 

“It’s fine, especially because I’m the reason you’re like this.” Grantaire told him, “Besides Combeferre is at Éponine’s. I have a question about them.”

“Hmmm?” Enjolras replied as he took a bite of the delicious meal Grantaire had made.

“Does Combeferre like Ép?” 

Enjolras thought as he chewed his food, “We’ve never discussed it openly.” 

Grantaire visibly deflated, “Why?”

“Usually I know he likes someone before he does and vice versa, so if I haven’t picked up, he either doesn’t like her like that or he’s realised and he’s keeping it from me”

“And you haven’t noticed?” Grantaire asked, his green eyes meeting Enjolras’ with a glimmer of hope.

“I’ve been a little… pre-occupied with my own… feelings lately, but I’ll keep an eye out and let you know.” Enjolras replied, his cheeks flushing red slightly.

“Oh, sorry to pry.” Grantaire replied, he felt his mood dip, felt himself closing off and putting up walls.

“Why’d you ask about ‘Ferre?”

“I think he likes her and I think she likes him even if she doesn’t know it. Combeferre would be good for her, especially after her feelings for Marius.”

“She’s over that?” Enjolras asked. 

“She’s getting over him, yes, but it’s hard – gods knows I’ve been and am in her shoes.” Grantaire answered, “Not with Pontmercy though!”

Enjolras forced a laugh, but his smile didn’t meet his eyes and Grantaire didn’t notice the melancholia in the back of his blue eyes. “Gods know what Cosette sees in him.” 

“Agreed.” Grantaire nodded. 

“Or Ép for that matter.” Enjolras added, “Though I think Combeferre would be good for her too, he’s dependable and loyal. He’d look after her, if she’d let him.”

“I doubt it, this is ‘Ponine we’re talking about.” 

The blond revolutionary hummed in agreement as he ate more of his pancakes with a big smile, “This is really good food, by the way.” 

“My Mum and Grandma taught me.” Grantaire shrugged.

“I might have to keep you so you can cook me all my meals.” Enjolras responded without thinking, then he realised what he had said and blushed. 

Grantaire had also gone red, his heart was beating fast. “Enjolras…” 

“I didn’t mean it like that… I-uh… s-sorr-“ Enjolras stuttered and stumbled over his words. 

“It’s… it’s fine…” Grantaire replied, he felt himself moving forward, leaning towards Enjolras. 

Enjolras felt the same, he moved towards the brunet slowly, his eyes searching Grantaire’s for any sign of uncertainty. He found none. He didn’t know if that contributed to the nerves curling in his stomach. Grantaire lifted a hand slightly, as if to touch Enjolras’ bedhead. Their faces were inches apart, their noses almost touching, Enjolras’ eyes fluttered shut and…

And that’s when Grantaire’s phone had to ring.

“Bad Girl’ by Avril Lavigne was Éponine’s personalised tone – she found it hilarious and made Grantaire use it for her for when she called, which was now.

Grantaire growled but pulled out his phone, “What do you want?”

“Grouchy, did you not get some last night?” Éponine replied.

“Éponine!” Grantaire exclaimed, his eyes wide, “I will talk to you later…”

“Why? Wait, did I interrupt something?”

“Kind of.” 

“Oh for Aphrodite’s sake!” Éponine yelled in the background, “I ruined a moment! Combeferre! I. Ruined. A. Moment. A moment!”

“’Ferre is still there?”

“Yes…” Éponine answered sheepishly, then, before Grantaire could ask her, she added quickly, “Anyway, regardless. Call me later… when you’re alone.” Then she added quieter, as if she was talking to herself, “Can’t believe I ruined it, they were so close. Stupid oblivious idiots.” 

“Éponine, its fine. I’ll talk to you later.”

“I’m so sorry.” She replied, “Go get yo’ man!”

“Talk to you later.” Grantaire answered before ending the call.

He turned to look at Enjolras, but he had moved back in his seat and away from Grantaire. It was clear by the look in his eyes whatever moment had been between them had gone. Grantaire took a deep breath a supressed a scream. Across the university campus, both Combeferre and Éponine did the same.

 

To Grantaire  
Éponine: I am so sorry, R.  
Grantaire: It’s fine, ‘Ponine.   
Éponine: It’s not.  
Éponine: It was a moment.  
Éponine: A moment I may or may not have money on.  
Grantaire: What?  
Éponine: Nothing.  
Grantaire: You have money betted on whether Enjolras and I will get together?  
Éponine: Oh, look at that I have to go.   
Grantaire: Éponine, answer me.  
Grantaire: Éponine.  
Grantaire: This isn’t funny.  
Grantaire: Ep.  
Grantaire: Éponine.  
Grantaire: Answer me!

 

They didn’t see each other again for nearly a week due to their separate lessons and the lack of a group meeting. But, it came to a point when it couldn’t be avoided. 

They had posters to paint. 

Enjolras briefly thought that this couldn’t fail, he’d get through this afternoon without anything happening. He then thought that that was tempting fate and Murphy’s Law. When he saw Grantaire, in his ripped jeans and tight, paint-splattered shirt that wasn’t buttoned to the top (because even the buttons were against Enjolras as they had decided to get lost), he pretty soon realised his former thought had been in vain and naturally, the meeting would go wrong. 

It started well, but like so many things, it fell apart. 

They had started with Grantaire showing Enjolras the pencil copies of the original posters –that he’d designed – and Enjolras had been blown away by them all. Grantaire’s art was incredible, Enjolras was almost certain that the brunet’s poster alone could win his revolution. It made him fall in love with him a little bit more.

Grantaire gave Enjolras five of the ten posters, he gave him he basic coloured drafts and got him paints. They were sat on the floor in Grantaire and Jehan’s studio (read: spare room), it was divided in two, one half dedicated to Grantaire’s art and the other to Jehan’s poetry and books. On the walls were a mix of Jehan’s own poems and his favourite poems and Grantaire’s art, pictures and photos of their friends, snapshots of their meetings, parties and everyday life. Enjolras’ favourite was the picture of them all together, but Grantaire had drawn them as superheroes – though the blond resented the fact he was named ‘Captain France’ and his figure wore too much red, blue and white lycra, especially when he thought the others had much better powers. 

Jehan’s half has shelves full of books and anthologies of poems and his favourite novels, he had a desk cluttered in papers and various pens, from his homemade calligraphy pens to normal ballpoints. There were pots of plants on window sills, but not enough to block nearly a tenth of the light from the huge windows and a music stand and flute stand for when Jehan had time to play. 

Then there was Grantaire’s half, littered with canvases and an easel abandoned in the corner, there were shelves full of different, pencils, pens paints, inks, sketchpads and cameras, a comfy looking chair pushed under one of the plant filled windows and a large, paint-splattered table with chairs surrounding it in the middle, littered with sketchpads, scraps of papers, yet more cameras and a stereo which was now playing songs from the radio. Pieces of Grantaire’s art and Jehan’s poetry were hung from the ceiling like stalactites. The smell of ink, flowers and paint hung in the air and the mix was surprisingly pleasant, which was part of the reason Enjolras loved the studio, the other part of it being that it was one of the places Grantaire truly relaxed.

Which is what they were doing now as they painted in the lines of Grantaire’s posters, the radio playing softly in the background along with the sounds of the city leaking into the room from the open windows. Enjolras glanced over at Grantaire, pleased with the serene expression on the brunet’s face, then his eyes drifted to the bright streak of paint in Grantaire’s inky curls, he began picking up the other smudges of paint on Grantaire’s strong arms, his cheek, his top, his trousers. 

“What’re you looking at Enjy?” Grantaire asked, eyes never leaving his painting. 

“You got a little paint everywhere.” Enjolras answered. 

Grantaire put down the paintbrush in his hand, finding his phone and checking his reflection in it briefly before turning back to Enjolras. “It’s the mark of a true artist.” 

Enjolras smiled and raised an eyebrow, “Right.” 

“It’s true. It’s be strange if an artist did art and didn’t get paint everywhere, you’re looking too clean.”

“I’m pure at heart; it repels the dirt and paint.” Enjolras deadpanned. 

Grantaire smirked and Enjolras immediately regretted it as his face heated. Grantaire sneakily picked up his paintbrush, “Shall we see about that?”

“What, make a bet to see if by the time we’re done I’m still unpainted?” Enjolras asked, not noticing Grantaire’s movement.

“What will I win?” Grantaire asked.

“You mean what will you lose?” Enjolras corrected, “How about, the loser does what the winner wants?”

“Alright, deal?” Grantaire smiled, holding his hand out for Enjolras to shake.

“Deal.” Enjolras replied confidently, he shook Grantaire’s hand.

“You’ve just condemned yourself to massaging my feet later.” Grantaire told him.

“We’ll see.” Enjolras answered before turning back to his painting. Grantaire watched him for a moment before returning to his painting. 

It was a few hours later and Grantaire had finished his five posters, plus three of Enjolras’ because he was slow at painting – he didn’t want to ruin Grantaire’s beautiful works. Grantaire was waiting for Enjolras to finish his second poster. Enjolras had his tongue sticking out slightly from between his pearly, white teeth as he concentrated, his eyebrows were drawn together slightly as he painted. His shirt was still as clean as it was when he’d gotten there earlier. 

And Grantaire couldn’t resist. 

He scooped up a large blob of red paint onto his paintbrush, and like a catapult he flung the paint in an arc in Enjolras’ direction. The glob of paint landed on Enjolras’ leg.

The blond froze before whipping his head up to glare at Grantaire. 

“I think I just won the bet.” Grantaire said coolly.

Enjolras didn’t reply, but scooped up a splotch of blue paint and threw it at Grantaire. The paint hit the brunet square in the chest. 

“Oh no you didn’t.” Grantaire clicked his fingers on each syllable.

“Wanna bet?” Enjolras asked. 

Grantaire scooped up more paint and hurled it at Enjolras, this time it hit his arm.

“Are we doing this?” Grantaire asked.

“We’re doing this.” Enjolras confirmed, grabbing a tube of paint and squeezing it quickly, Grantaire got a line of yellow across his nose. 

“It’s on like Donkey-Kong, Blondie.” Grantaire shouted as he grabbed his pallet and tubes of paint whilst diving behind the table. 

Enjolras also grabbed more paint and began aiming and launching it at the brunet. Grantaire retaliated, paint landing in Enjolras’ hair, all over his arms and shirt. His blue eyes shone with determination and Grantaire had a second to move before paint was flying towards him, he slipped around the table and shot more paint towards Enjolras. Paint flew back at him almost as soon as it had been flung and soon the battle was just flying paint, neither trying to dodge. 

Then, Enjolras ran out of paint. He made a dash to the shelf where he grabbed more, but Grantaire had already made his back a Jackson Pollock painting. Enjolras turned around and, without thinking, dived forward onto Grantaire. 

This tactic surprised the artist and he was too stunned to attack, giving Enjolras the perfect opportunity to remove the paint tubes from his hands. Enjolras put paint on his hand before he applied it onto Grantaire’s cheek, the paint was cold on Grantaire’s skin and he groaned, before rolling them over. 

He yanked the paint from Enjolras hand and then start staring at the blond’s unpainted cheek.

“What’re you doing?” Enjolras asked, trying to ignore the fact Grantaire was pinning him down.

“Deciding what to paint on you.” Grantaire hummed, “I think a flower.” 

“Do your worst.” Enjolras answered with the attitude reminiscent of someone unwilling to give information in an interrogation, Grantaire started to paint his cheek, the coldness making Enjolras squirm, though he waited for the perfect moment to flip them over again.

Grantaire didn’t take long to paint the flower on Enjolras’ cheek, and soon was painting different kinds of flowers up the blond’s temple, over his forehead, over his glabella and slightly down his nose, then he followed the trail down next to Enjolras’ other eye and onto his other cheek. By the time Grantaire was done Enjolras looked like an avenging flower God, his determination to win burning in his blue eyes, contrasting with the reds, oranges and pinks of the flowers on his face and complimenting the streaks of paint in his golden hair. 

Grantaire grabbed a camera off the table and took a snapshot of Enjolras. 

“Oh no, you didn’t.” Enjolras growled, he flipped them over, deftly swiping the camera from Grantaire. 

He took some photos of Grantaire as he struggled beneath the blond revolutionary, though they both knew Grantaire was stronger and could easily flip them over if he so wished to. Enjolras decided to also paint Grantaire’s face, he painted swirls over the already drying paint, mimicking the path Grantaire’s had gone, only Enjolras continued it down the brunet’s neck.

This caused him to be leaning over Grantaire, his mouth inches from the brunet’s. Their eyes locked, Enjolras’ sapphire meeting Grantaire’s jade, there was no hesitation in either of their eyes, only affection that might be on the verge of love. Enjolras was filled with a feeling he couldn’t describe, the only thing he knew in that moment was that he wanted to kiss Grantaire. Suddenly all his suppressed feelings for the artist were on the verge of bubbling over. He felt himself move forward slightly.

The door to the studio was yanked open as Jehan walked in. The sudden sound caused both the brunet and blond to jump, though neither of them moved from their position on the floor. Jehan noticed them and his mouth fell open as they looked at them.

“I forgot today was poster day.” Jehan apologised, tugging on his plaited hair, “I’m sorry I ruined something. 

“No, it’s fine Jehan.” Grantaire answered, still underneath Enjolras.

Enjolras realised he was still atop Grantaire and hastily moved off him as he stood, his face going red underneath the painted flowers. Grantaire got up too, he may have been blushing, but it was hard to tell. 

“We were having a paint war.” Enjolras supplied. 

“I can see.” Jehan smiled, trying to defuse the tension in the room, “Nice flowers, Enjolras.”

Enjolras blushed some more and looked at his feet. 

“I was going for angry flower God.” Grantaire nodded.

“I just went for swirls.” Enjolras explained. 

“I like them both.” Jehan nodded, “Let me take a picture?”

“Come here then Enjy.” Grantaire smiled at the blond. Enjolras complied, his face heating again. “Flowers are a good look for you O’Fearless One.” 

“Don’t call me that.” Enjolras replied, not noticing Jehan snapping photos of them.

“But Couf’ does.” Grantaire pouted. 

“Couf is Couf.” Enjolras rolled his eyes.

“I can testify to that.” Jehan raised a hand. “Now stand together, no Grantaire, move closer, Enjolras stop scowling, smile, you know how to do that, I’ve seen you do it before, ‘Taire stop making signs behind his head, behave.” 

“Better?” Grantaire asked.

“Better.” Jehan nodded, “Now, pull a funny face.” 

When Enjolras went to get the paint off his face half-an-hour later, Jehan showed Grantaire the photos, he could clearly see the adoration in each of their eyes as they looked at the other. Though Grantaire couldn’t.

“Taire, I’m so sorry, I forgot Enjolras was over, if I ruined a moment…” Jehan told him.

“No, it’s probably better you came in then, I don’t know what that was about, it’s happened three times in the past two weeks.” Grantaire frowned slightly.

“Maybe you have feelings for each other.”

“As if Enjolras would have feelings for me.” Grantaire scoffed.

Jehan’s expression softened, “Have you asked him?”

“No.” Grantaire answered, “But I don’t need to, people like him and people like me don’t belong together, people like him don’t fall for people like me and people like me have no choice but to fall for people like him.” 

“You’re not making sense.” Jehan stated. 

“It’s a basic fact, we don’t belong together, we have no chance even if we did get together, which would never happen. And, quite frankly I think I’d rather it didn’t.” Grantaire exclaimed, his voice louder than intended.

Jehan hoped to every God and Goddess above that Enjolras wasn’t stood outside in the hallway, listening. 

“’Taire…” Jehan started, not sure how to warn him.

In the end it didn’t matter, as Enjolras entered the room again. Jehan knew instantly, that he’d heard. Enjolras’ blue eyes looked watery and slightly red, his smile was fake and went nowhere near his sad eyes and he was blinking quickly. He was still wearing his paint stained clothes.

“I’m going to go, I have to meet Combeferre for coffee.” Enjolras told them. 

“I’ll send you some of the pictures.” Jehan told him, his smiled sympathetically at Enjolras. 

“Thanks for helping with the posters.” Grantaire told him, his voice cold and distant. “You know the way out.”

Jehan scowled at Grantaire for being so ill-mannered, especially as he saw the hurt look on Enjolras’ now paint-free face. Rudeness, in Jehan’s point of view, was unacceptable, he hated rudeness and he was going to yell at Grantaire later. Just because he was hurting didn’t mean he could or should take it out on Enjolras. Jehan turned to Enjolras and said, “I’ll show you out.” 

Enjolras nodded and started leading the way. Jehan opened the door for him and followed him out onto the hallway, closing the door quietly behind him.

“You overheard, didn’t you?” Jehan asked. 

“Yes.” Enjolras nodded, his eyes filling with water. 

“Which part?”

“Where he said we’d have no chance together, how he doesn’t want up to even…” Enjolras broke off.

“I didn’t know how you felt, I knew you liked him, but I didn’t realise it was this strong and serious until now.” Jehan told him.

“I really like him Jehan. I like that he dances, I like that he took care of me last week, I like how he cooks and paints, I like that he interrupts meetings and argues, I like him pointing out the flaws in my speeches and points, I like how he looks, I like his smell and his hobbies, I like him so much, Jehan, so damn much.” Enjolras confessed, his eyes scrunched up in pain, “But it’s obviously one-sided. I guess I let too much slip this time, I knew I was pushing it by almost kissing him the first two times, but I guess by the third he noticed.” 

“Enjolras….” Jehan’s heart was breaking hearing this from the man who locked up his own feelings and needs for the future of others. 

“It’s my own fault, Jehan.” Enjolras smiled, though it was weak and forced. “I’ll back off, I won’t try again.” 

“Oh, Enjolras.” Jehan felt his own eyes well up with tears as he pulled Enjolras into a hug. Almost instantly, Enjolras clung to Jehan, despite the poet being a good few inches shorter than him, Enjolras collapsed onto the auburn-haired poet. He buried his face into Jehan’s oversized jumper and clung to him like a child would cling to its mother. They held onto each other for a few minutes before Enjolras pulled back. 

“I should go.” The blond told him.

“Alright, if you need to talk, just call me.” Jehan told him, sternly.

“I’ll be fine, thank you Jehan.” Enjolras shot him another attempt at a smile.

“Okay.” Jehan smiled back, “See you later.”

Enjolras nodded and turned away, he started walking to the stairwell and Jehan watched him go. When he was gone Jehan, pulled out his phone, he sent texts explaining what had happened to both Combeferre and Courfeyrac and the he returned to his apartment, his eyes blazing with fury as he went back to the studio to yell at his roommate. 

 

The Get Enjy and ‘Taire-Bear Together Chat  
Jehan: Hold the bets, Grantaire is an idiot.   
Éponine: What did he do this time? *exasperated sigh*  
Courfeyrac: Jehan, what?  
Courfeyrac: Wait, I got the text.  
Cosette: I’ll make a coat out of his skin if he loses my bet money. *sharpens knife*  
Musichetta: What did R do this time?  
Courfeyrac: Why is he such an idiot?   
Combeferre: Courfeyrac, we need to talk strategy for when Enjolras gets home.   
Combeferre: Courfeyrac. Kitchen. Now.  
Courfeyrac: Couf out.  
Jehan: Sorry, I was yelling at Grantaire.   
Jehan: Basically he said some stuff in his depreciating manner about how he thinks it is better he and Enjolras don’t even try to get together, never mind actually get together. And, like the movies, Enjolras overheard. Grantaire closed off and put up his walls so he was cold when he practically ordered Enjolras out of the apartment and he looked so crushed.   
Jehan: Our fearless leader was almost in tears. I showed him out and talked to him before a little before he left, but he looked like his whole world had crashed, it broke my heart.  
Éponine: My ship is tearing apart! Grantaire is an idiot! He knows I have money riding on this!  
Cosette: Poor baby!   
Musichetta: Awh, Enjolras! My heart bleeds for him! ;(  
Bossuet: They have such bad luck.   
Bossuet: And that’s from me!  
Éponine: Why can’t they see how crazy they are about each other?  
Bahorel: Damn it, R, does he purposely self sabotage?  
Feuilly: Appears so.  
Musichetta: Poor Enjy.  
Marius: So Grantaire doesn’t like Enjolras?  
Bahorel: *face plants palm*  
Cosette: No, Marius he does… it’s just hard to explain  
Marius: I don’t get it, why don’t they tell each other?  
Éponine: Oh my Gods. Really?  
Cosette: Because not all boys and girls are like you, Marius.  
Jehan: and these two are particularly oblivious.  
Musichetta: Why did Éponine fall off the sofa, laughing like a maniac and crying at the same time?   
Musichetta: I’m not sure the tears are related to her laughter…  
Musichetta: Never mind, I read Marius’ comment…   
Musichetta: My ship is dying and my best friend is insane and this is normal.  
Feuilly: Join the club.

 

“Enjolras?” Combeferre called as he heard the front door slam shut. The bespectacled student walked out of the kitchen, Courfeyrac hot on his heels, in search of his best friend, both planning how to deal with one heart-broken fearless revolutionary.

It was clear he hadn’t gone past the kitchen and wasn’t in the living room so they went to the door. Enjolras was slumped on the floor, hugging his knees to his chest. His curls were physically drooping, his eyes were red, puffy and he was crying. Combeferre and Courfeyrac shared a look before moving to sit either side of their best friend, their own hearts hurting to see this.

Enjolras immediately moved into them both, resting his head on Combeferre as Combeferre took his hand whilst Courfeyrac, hugged him from the side and ran hands through his golden locks. They were silent. Combeferre and Courfeyrac had only seen Enjolras like this, maybe twice before, once when his parents kicked him out, the second time when he realised what a mess the world was and how hopeless he felt when he tried to change it and now, this was the third time; the time his heart was breaking. 

“What hurts the most is that he doesn’t even want to try.” Enjolras sobbed, his eyes impossibly blue through his tears. “I like him… I like him so damn much and h-he doesn’t… l-like me back!”

“We figured you liked him.” Combeferre said softly. 

“I don’t want to, not anymore.” Enjolras wept, “I want to hate him, but I can’t because of his eyes and his hair and his personality and he’s just-“

“Can we disfigure him?” Courfeyrac asked, interrupting Combeferre. 

“No.” Enjolras whimpered.

“Can we wreck his car? Burn all his paintings?” Courfeyrac suggested, “Toilet paper his flat? Egg his windows?”

“You are aware Jehan lives there?” Combeferre asked.

“He’d be the first one to sign up.” Courfeyrac replied. 

“We can’t do any of those things.” Enjolras sniffed.

“We can have a film and ice-cream, maybe a hug-fest on the sofa, the floor hurts.” Courfeyrac suggested standing, he pulled Enjolras up with him. ‘The Film and Ice-Cream Hug-Fest’ started when Courfeyrac went through a particularly bad breakup and ever since had stuck, that whenever one of them went through a rough time, they would eat ice-cream, watch a film and snuggled down in every blanket they owned. Then they’d talk about it and listen to the other two’s advice.

“I’ll get the ice cream and tea, Couf’ you’re on blankets, like all the blankets we own, you know the drill, Enjy, find a film you want to watch, any film.” Combeferre told them.

They dispersed and then reconvened on the sofa in the living room. They snuggled in all the blankets Courfeyrac had found, Enjolras cocooned between his best friends and a ridiculous amount blankets, whilst clutching their tea and ice cream as The Lion King played and they, albeit half-heartedly, watched the famous Disney cartoon.

Enjolras finally felt like spilling everything about Grantaire around the time Simba was adopted by Pumba and Timone, after crying over Mufasa. He told them everything, when he realised his feelings were more than platonic to the three almost kisses and finally to what he’d overheard. Combeferre and Courfeyrac listened and told Enjolras their thoughts and hugged him close. They fell asleep like that, all together in the blankets with Courfeyrac resting his head on Enjolras and Enjolras leaning on Combeferre, and Enjolras thanked every God above that he had these two as his best friends.

 

They saw each other two weeks later at one of Enjolras’ social justice meetings, after the blond had decided to go back to revolutioning to get over his broken heart. He had moped for two weeks straight and now decided the best course of action was to go back to normal life. Unfortunately that involved Grantaire. 

Enjolras entered the meeting a little later than he normally would have due to being held back by a professor, Combeferre smiled upon seeing him and Courfeyrac gave him applause. The rest of the group nodded and gave him reassuring smiles. He purposely ignored Grantaire. 

The meeting carried on as normal, only when Grantaire interrupted Enjolras acted like he hadn’t. The rest of the group tried not to notice the heartbreak in Enjolras eyes every time Grantaire spoke, and they tried not to see how crushed Grantaire looked every time the blond ignored one of his points. This carried on for weeks. 

After two weeks of silent treatment from Enjolras, he had had enough. He made arrangements with the others that the meeting would be pushed back half an hour, but not to tell Enjolras, so the brunet could get the blond alone so he could talk to him.

The others were more than happy to oblige. Them all feeling awkward because their leader and cynic weren’t getting along.

Grantaire was sat by Enjolras’ chair when the blond hurried in, not noticing the lack of other members in his bustle until he dumped his things on his table. Then he saw Grantaire. 

“Grantaire.” He forced out, though avoided eye contact. 

“Enjolras.” Grantaire replied, a sad smile stretching onto his face, “You’ve been avoiding me. Why won’t you speak to me?”

There was a stretch of silence as Enjolras sorted out his things. The blond was purposely ignoring the brunet, he was hurting.

“Okay, so I know I’ve upset you or made you mad.”

Enjolras snorted, “Stunning deduction Sherlock.” 

“Enjolras, please tell me what I’ve done. I think I have a vague idea, but I want to check it’s right.” Grantaire said, his idea was that Enjolras was mad that he had acted rudely. 

“I can guarantee, you won’t get it right.” Enjolras replied steadily. 

“Tell me? Please?”

“What do you think you’ve done?”

“I was rude when I said goodbye to you.” Grantaire answered, “Jehan had said something that had… annoyed me and then I took it out on you, so, I’m sorry.” 

“Gods, you’re so oblivious.” Enjolras exclaimed with a sigh. 

“What? Is that not the reason?”

Enjolras’ eyebrows scrunched together and his lips turned down. His eyes were watery. Grantaire felt like his heart was breaking looking at the pure sadness on Enjolras’ austere face.

“Enjolras, please tell me?”

“Where are the others?” Enjolras asked, ignoring the brunet’s question.

“The Gods know where, but I do know they’ll be here in half an hour.” Grantaire told him.

“Why?”

“Because I asked them to.” 

“Why?”

“Because you’ve not talked to me since we painted posters and I’ve… I’ve missed your company.” Grantaire admitted. Enjolras turned from Grantaire, his face crestfallen, though Grantaire couldn’t see it. Grantaire took a step forward and placed a hand on Enjolras’ back, then he spoke softly, “Why are you mad at me Enjolras?” 

“I’m not mad at you.” Enjolras said suddenly, his face turning to Grantaire’s.

“Could have fooled me.” Grantaire remarked, his eyebrows raised. 

“I’m mad at myself!” Enjolras told him.

“And you’re what? Taking it out on me?” Grantaire asked.

“No. Yes.” Enjolras scowled. “I’m trying so hard… Grantaire, I don’t think I can do this anymore.” 

“Do what?” Grantaire inquired, his eyes full of concern. Their faces were close together which meant Grantaire could stare into the depths of Enjolras’ eyes and see each forlorn shade of blue making up his iris. 

“You don’t know.” Enjolras closed his eyes, whether in thought or pain wasn’t clear. 

“Tell me.” Grantaire said, his voice soft and imploring. He leaned his forehead against Enjolras’

Enjolras was silent for a moment, lost in thought. He couldn’t punish and blame Grantaire for his own unwillingness to share his feeling, couldn’t make Grantaire suffer because of Enjolras’ own pain. He sighed and shook his head, slowly opening his eyes to look into Grantaire’s. And, oh how he wanted to kiss Grantaire. Especially when the brunet was like this, their foreheads pressed together, Grantaire’s hand still on Enjolras’ shoulder blade and his emerald eyes so open and concerned for him, for Enjolras. 

“I can’t, ‘Taire, I’m sorry.” Enjolras apologised quietly. 

Grantaire’s eyes seemed dim, but he nodded, “That’s okay. I’m here if you need me.”

“Thank you.” Enjolras forced a weak smile on his face and moved away from the artist before he did something like kiss him senseless, he promised he wouldn’t try again and he would keep his word. “I’m sorry I ignored you with no explanation.” 

“I’ll accept, only if you accept my apology for being rude.” Grantaire bargained.

“Deal.” Enjolras nodded, his smile slightly more genuine. 

“So we’re good?” Grantaire asked, still not moving from Enjolras’ side. 

“We’re good.” Enjolras nodded. 

“Awesome.” Grantaire grinned, “I’ve missed your sparkling personality telling me how wrong I am.” 

“You’re just inaccurate and need to be told.” Enjolras joked. 

“Am not.” Grantaire said with a smirk.

“Are too.” Enjolras grinned back.

They carried on arguing like that, until the rest of the group turned up for the meeting. Everyone feeling better now that the two were speaking again.

 

The Get Enjy and ‘Taire-Bear Together Chat  
Courfeyrac: GUYS!  
Cosette: And girls  
Courfeyrac: AND GIRLS!  
Éponine: What? I swear to every God this better be good news.  
Courfeyrac: IT IS!  
Jehan: Courfeyrac, baby, did the Caps Lock button get stuck again?  
Courfeyrac: WHAT?  
Courfeyrac: Oh, no. Sorry, I was excited.   
Cosette: What happened?   
Musichetta: I heard all the beeping so I took a break and my boss is looking angry, if this is about my ship spill it now.   
Courfeyrac: I saw Enjolras and Grantaire getting lunch together. Combeferre was there too, so I’m not making this up.  
Musichetta: *uncontrollable fangirling*  
Bahorel: And this is amazing how?  
Courfeyrac: BECAUSE IT WAS JUST THE TWO OF THEM! *squeals*  
Cosette: I ship it.  
Combeferre: Couf, Caps Lock.  
Courfeyrac: I’m using it because I’m excited!   
Bahorel: I have lunch with Feuilly and no one makes a big fuss.   
Feuilly: Why am I your example?  
Bahorel: We’re best friends. You’re my default example.  
Feuilly: not sure if I should be offended or complemented.   
Musichetta: Were they sat close together? Where’d they go? What were they eating? Did they look like they were having fun?   
Bossuet: ‘Chetta, it’s not twenty questions  
Musichetta: ‘Suet, you know I love them.  
Joly: Sometimes I feel like she’ll leave us for them, ‘Suet. :(   
Musichetta: I will do no such thing! I love them together not I love them full stop. Besides you two are my boys. I love you two.  
Joly: When do you finish work?  
Musichetta: At three. Early Date Night?  
Bossuet: Early Date Night.  
Joly: I’ll get the rose petals.  
Bossuet: I’m on chocolate sauce.  
Musichetta: Candles.  
Courfeyrac: That’s more about your relationship than I ever wanted to know.  
Éponine: Agreed.

 

The next time they almost kissed happened at Courfeyrac's (and Combeferre and Enjolras' by default) Bimonthly Movie Night. All the group had arrived as Enjolras walked into their lounge, it was cosy and of course filled with his favourite people.

Bossuet, Musichetta and Joly were crammed on the two person love seat, the two males on the actually seat and Musichetta was draped across them like a blanket, Jehan and Courfeyrac at their feet. Cosette and Marius had taken up residence on the sofa, with a grumpy looking Grantaire next to Cosette, Combeferre and Éponine were sat in front of the sofa, with Feuilly up in the only armchair with his feet dangling over Bahorel's shoulders.

That left Enjolras with nowhere to sit.

"Hey..." Enjolras started, then Éponine cut him off.

"Where's Enjy going to sit?" She asked. 

"There's plenty of room here." Courfeyrac patted the ground next to him and Enjolras glared.

"I'd rather stand." Enjolras told him.

"We'll squish up." Cosette said, a small, knowing smile on her face, she winked when she caught Éponine's eye. The brunette smiled back. Cosette then pushed Marius into the armrest of the chair and then followed, leaving a gap for Enjolras.

"Are you sure?" Enjolras asked with a hesitant glance at Grantaire.

"Four can fit on that settee and you damn well know it, fearless one." Courfeyrac answered. Enjolras flipped him off.

"Just sit down so we can watch the movie." Bahorel called.

"Come on Apollo. I don’t bite." Grantaire told him, then added with a wink, “Unless you’re into that.” 

 

“Don’t kink shame me.” Cosette giggled and the others laughed, Marius spluttering on his drink.

Enjolras tried to not blush as he made his way to the sofa and flopped down on it, he could feel the heat from where both Grantaire's and Cosette's legs were against his, but only the former mattered.

"Move over a bit, Enjolras? Marius is squashed." Cosette asked.

"I'm no-" Marius squeaked and then restarted as Cosette has pinched his arm, "I am, please move up."

Someone, most likely Bahorel or Courfeyrac muttered: ‘Whipped’

Enjolras shifted over slightly, but then Cosette pushed him more, so he was pressed right against Grantaire, who had stayed uncharacteristically quiet during all this.

"Can we just watch this film already?" Bahorel moaned, breaking the other conversations up.

Enjolras tried to relax as Courfeyrac played the film, though he couldn't pay much attention when he was pressed against Grantaire so closely. And, as a result mostly retreated into his thoughts, so much so he couldn’t even tell you what film that watched first. Once that was over, and the group had dissolved into an argument about what to watch next, Grantaire leaned towards Enjolras and whispered in his ear:

"What are thinking about?"

"Nothing." Enjolras replied immediately. 

"Liar, you paid no attention to that film."

"I did."

"What was it called then?" Grantaire asked.

Enjolras pressed his lips together, "Fine, I didn't."

"Tonight is movie night, it's a relaxing night, so don't think about all the papers you need to do." Grantaire told him, Enjolras nodded, not feeling like he should correct the brunet and tell him he was actually thinking about him. "How are you going to relax when you're sat like that?"

"What?" Enjolras asked.

"Your posture is perfect, you're so tense I can feel it, you're not comfortable." Grantaire pointed out.

"How should I sit then?" Enjolras snapped

"Slouch, lean on either me or Cosette, use Éponine as a footstool."

"Do that and I'll cut you." Éponine replied, she then went back into her conversation with Combeferre.

Enjolras stifled a laugh, though he did relax. His shoulders loosened slightly and he leant more to the side Grantaire was on, though he still looked awkward and uncomfortable. Then Enjolras brought his feet up and Grantaire thought for a second that Enjolras was actually going to put them on Éponine and that he actually had a suicide wish, but then the blond was curling them to the side, curling his long physique up into a smaller ball. 

“Better?” Enjolras asked, his blue eyes unsure and his eyebrows raised as he looked at Grantaire.

“Better.” Grantaire nodded, he then took his own advice and leaned more onto Enjolras.

By now the film debate was over and another film was being put in, this time it was revealed to be ‘10 Things I Hate About You’ - Cosette, Éponine, Musichetta, Jehan, Marius and Courfeyrac had won the argument - though Marius and Courfeyrac, Grantaire thought, had voted only for their counterparts.

"But it's not a full vote, E and R didn't vote!" Bahorel roared.

"Fine, what do you vote, Enj?" Combeferre asked.

"It's Heath Ledger, do you really have to ask my answer?" Enjolras raised an eyebrow.

"Told you he was on our side!" Courfeyrac grinned, okay maybe Courfeyrac wasn’t doing it for Jehan.

"Really?" Grantaire asked, genuinely interested.

"Yeah... I, uh I kind of had a crush on him, this one of my favourite films and it made me realise..." Enjolras trailed off with a blush.

"Made you realise?" Grantaire prompted.

"Made him realise he likes boys?" Bahorel guessed.

"No." Enjolras said, "I knew that before, this film made me realise I have a type." Thinking of how Grantaire matched up to that particularly well.

"Combat boots, rebellious nature and long hair..." Cosette nodded, "I agree."

Everyone looked at her and Marius, who was the polar opposite to that. "Really?" Someone said.

"A girl can dream." She replied with a shrug. 

Marius looked slightly offeneded, “Should I be hurt?” 

“No, I love you the way you are.” Cosette smiled, taking his hand in hers and kissing Marius lightly on the cheek. Marius blushed and beamed.

"R, what about you?" Combeferre asked.

"I've never seen it, but I want to see who could possibly have a hope of captivating our fearless leader's heart so, I'm in." Grantaire replied. All of the group looked at him like he was an idiot and he felt like he’d missed something, something big. 

Meanwhile, Enjolras was mentally freaking out. Grantaire was so like Heath Ledger’s character, Patrick Verona, it would be painfully obvious that Enjolras had a crush on him and then the brunet would, in Enjolras’ head, never talk to him again.

"Oh look at that, we outnumbered you even more than before." Éponine smiled. "Let's watch."

They played the film despite Bahorel's complaints. Enjolras relaxed more as it played, until he was resting his head and a hand on Grantaire's chest. Grantaire's arm snaking around his waist to pull him closer.

It got to the poem and Enjolras recited it under his breath, Grantaire could feel the blond’s jaw move as he muttered the words, he also saw Jehan, Cosette and surprisingly Éponine doing the same. And, only then did Grantaire begin to think. 

He saw some similarities between himself and Patrick Verona. They both wore combat boots, they both had long, messy hair and they both had crushes on blonds. Blonds who were stubborn and determined, but secretly, deep down soft. They also both had a relationship that started off as hatred and would maybe end romantically....

He was aware of Enjolras who was practically curled up on him, his head of blond curls just below the brunet' chin, he was a warm and comforting weight, breathing softly and being surprisingly quiet.

"Is he asleep?" Éponine asked.

"He hasn't moved for a while." Grantaire answered, realising the film had ended and he’d missed it, as he was deep in thought.

"Oh my Gods, he is." Courfeyrac said. Then he scrambled to get out his phone, several of the others did the same. "He looks adorable. Grantaire say cheese or something."

Grantaire just glared at him, Enjolras began to shift slightly and Grantaire wanting to keep him there longer did the first thing he thought of and ran his hands through Enjolras' curls and, oh god, his hair was really as soft as it looked. Enjolras made a happy, quiet sound and arched into the touch, but didn’t open his eyes or wake.

"He's like a cat." Jehan observed.

"He's going to be pissed when he wakes up." Bahorel spoke.

"Shall I take him to his room?" Grantaire asked.

"He'll wake up, he’s a light sleeper," Combeferre lied, "it's best to leave him." 

“He is.” Courfeyrac agreed, meeting Combeferre’s eyes and a silent message passing between them.

"Anyone want a blanket? It's getting cool." Combeferre asked, the majority of the group nodded and he went off to grab all the blankets they owned. 

He came back giving out the blankets and then the bespectacled student was passing one that smelt suspiciously like Enjolras, not that Grantaire was complaining, to the brunet. He smiled gratefully at Combeferre and manoeuvred the blanket around himself and Enjolras without disturbing the blond.

“Alright, next film!” Courfeyrac grinned.

“Harry Potter!” Bahorel exclaimed loudly. Enjolras stirred and Grantaire tightened his hold on the blond, but he didn’t wake. Cosette watched them and cooed quietly, she smiled when she met Grantaire’s eyes. 

“You two are really cute together.” She told him.

“You think?” Grantaire asked. 

“I know. I just wish you’d both see how perfect you could be for each other.” Cosette grinned teasingly. 

“Or a disaster.” 

“But a beautiful disaster.” Cosette implored, “Isn’t it better to have a go and see it explode brilliantly or see it blossom like a beautiful flower instead of never trying at all and never knowing what it could be like?”

“You sound like Jehan, how much wine have you had?” Grantaire asked playfully.

She narrowed her eyes mockingly, “Leave my alcohol consumption out of it. It’s a good question, think about it, pinkie promise me?” She held out her pinkie over Enjolras’ sleeping form.

“Fine.” Grantaire sighed, he linked his pinkie with hers and shook them.

“If you don’t keep it a faerie dies.” Cosette warned. 

“I won’t kill Tinkerbell for you.” Grantaire told her.

“You better not.” Cosette warned, “Otherwise I can get a convent of angry nuns onto you.” Then she laughed.

“Please don’t” 

“But, seriously, you both look adorable.” She said, rounding back to her original point, “Let me get a picture for you.”

“There’s no need.” Grantaire told her and he turned his attention to Enjolras. He carefully ran his fingers through the blond’s hair and Enjolras made a purring sound and snuggled closer to Grantaire. Grantaire was too lost in his thoughts to notice the click of Cosette’s phone taking a photo, or the buzz as she sent it to him. 

The group decided to appease Bahorel and so ‘Harry Potter and The Philosopher’s Stone’ was played. Éponine kept making snarky comments and Grantaire joined in halfway through, it was funny to see Bahorel puff up and defend his favourite franchise. 

Towards the end of the film Grantaire found his eyes closing and soon he drifted off into a sleep. The good thing about the Bimonthly Film Night is that it was always a sleepover and thus falling asleep was acceptable. 

Though Grantaire woke up when everyone started to settle down, somehow in their sleep Enjolras had moved – or been moved, knowing their friends - so he was mostly on top of Grantaire, their legs had gotten tangled in their sleep. Grantaire held the blond closer.

He saw Combeferre retreating to his room with a cautious smile on his face, Feuilly and Bahorel following as they were to sleep on Combeferre’s bedroom floor. Cosette and Marius taking Enjolras’ bedroom floor – if Enjolras woke up and went to his room, he wouldn’t be happy. Bossuet, Musichetta and Joly had claimed the floor between the sofa, loveseat, TV and armchair by the looks of their blankets thrown on the floor – though they weren’t actually around. Éponine had decided to curl up in the armchair after insisting she would be fine which left Enjolras and Grantaire the settee. 

Éponine shot him a small smile and headed to the bathroom. Enjolras still hadn’t woken up. 

Grantaire, not wanting to disturb the blond revolutionary, shifted him as he swung his feet up (and Enjolras’), not bothering to change into pyjamas, and shifted himself so he was laid on his back. Enjolras was sleeping soundly on top of him. From this position Enjolras craned his face up to Grantaire’s and the brunet was presented with the urge to kiss Enjolras’ head, he felt himself lean forward.

His face was inches from Enjolras’ when the blond’s eyes opened. 

“Grantaire…?” Enjolras mumbled.

“Yeah?” Grantaire asked, jerking back from the proximity.

“Oh my gods.” Enjolras hissed, bolting upright, “I’m so sorry.” 

The lights weren’t yet out and Éponine wandered through from the bathroom in pyjama bottoms and a too-big band shirt. Her wavy hair was loose from its plait and she looked tired.

“Sleeping Beauty awakes.” She smiled, bleary eyed. She took her place, curling up in the armchair. 

“I’m so sorry, ‘Taire.” Enjolras blushed, his hair was flat on the side he’d been resting on Grantaire and there was a mark on his cheek from Grantaire’s t-shirt, but he looked adorable.

“It’s fine, glad to see I was a useful pillow.” Grantaire nodded, he was still laid down on the sofa and Enjolras was sitting on his legs.

“You should have woken me up.” Enjolras started, “I’m so sorry.” 

“Relax, it’s fine.” 

“You looked adorable.” Éponine told him, holding her phone up with a picture of them both. The blond was curled up on top of Grantaire and the brunet was sound asleep, his arms tightly around Enjolras.

Enjolras felt this cheeks go red and glanced at Grantaire to see the same blush on his face. Then he realised he was still on top of Grantaire. 

Enjolras practically jumped up, Grantaire shot him a confused look and then realised, he moved his feet so Enjolras could sit down.

“No one is in my bed right? Or I will kill both Courfeyrac and Combeferre.” Enjolras muttered. 

“No one is.” Éponine told him, “Though Marius and Cosette are on the floor.” 

“Really?” Enjolras groaned, “Where are you two sleeping?”

“Here, apparently.” Grantaire gestured to the sofa. 

“In this chair.” Éponine answered. 

“You can’t sleep cramped up in that chair, ‘Ponine.” Enjolras told her. 

“I can.” She answered stubbornly.

“You shouldn’t, it won’t be good for your back.” 

“Grantaire, tell him I’ve done it before.” 

“He’s right, Ép.” Grantaire backed up Enjolras, “And, if you really want we can get Combeferre and Joly’s opinion.” 

“There’s nowhere else to go.” Éponine answered. 

“My bed is a double, you two can use it and I’ll take the settee.” Enjolras countered. 

“I’ll take the sofa and you and R can sleep in the bed.” Éponine argued. 

“Éponine…” Grantaire started, “I’ll keep the couch, you two in the bed.” 

“No, ‘Taire, I can’t be in there with Marius and Cosette.” Éponine protested, “It would be too much to know they’re snuggling up together not even six foot from me.” 

“But you’d have an Enjolras teddy to cuddle.” 

“Hey!” Enjolras frowned, not quite offended but feeling like he should say something.

“I can’t put myself through that. I’m over it mostly, Cosette is my friend and I’m learning how to be friends with Marius, but I can’t do it, when I know they’ll be snuggled together.” Éponine replied with a shake of her head, “I’ll just take the chair.” 

“Éponine.” Grantaire warned. 

“I don’t see why you two can’t share, you literally spent four hours sleeping together, how is it any different in a bed?” Éponine pointed out, enjoying how both of the students blushed. 

“F-fine.” Grantaire said, glaring at Éponine. 

“So I get the sofa, you two get the bed.” Éponine concluded, trying to hide the small smug smile.

“Yes.” Enjolras answered, his voice distant. Then he turned to Grantaire and held out his hand, “Ready, R?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” Grantaire muttered, but he took Enjolras’ hand and got up. 

They left the living room, both shooting glares at Éponine as she got up and slinked to the sofa, her blankets trailing behind her and a self-satisfied smile on her face.

Enjolras crept into his room, with Grantaire behind, slowly as he didn’t want to wake Cosette or Marius – he felt Cosette would probably kill him for waking her up. As it was the petite blonde wasn’t asleep, though her freckled counterpart was. 

She glance at them as they entered the room, from her spot, sat on the airbed, playing on her phone. The lamp by Enjolras’ bed was on. She raised an eyebrow as she saw Grantaire with Enjolras but chose not to say anything.

“Éponine couldn’t sleep in the chair so she took the sofa.” Enjolras told her quietly.

“Shame, you two looked adorable.” She smiled. Enjolras blushed and hid it by turning and walking to his chest of drawers.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” Grantaire asked. 

“I didn’t feel like it.” She replied, “But my eyes hurt now.”

“’Taire, did you bring pyjamas?” Enjolras asked, back still turned as he started taking off his t-shirt. 

Grantaire blushed, but couldn’t keep his eyes off of Enjolras. Cosette watched Grantaire watching Enjolras gleefully and began typing on her phone excitedly. 

“No, I forgot.” Grantaire sighed, “I knew I needed something.” 

“I’ve got something you can borrow.” Enjolras decided, he turned to face Grantaire, now completely shirtless and threw him a t-shirt. Grantaire averted his gaze from his Apollo.

Grantaire looked at it, it was too big for Enjolras and had the word ‘Revolution’ written across it, only the ‘evol’ was written bigger and highlighted in pink and glitter to show the backwards version of ‘love’.

“I never pegged you for pink and glitter, Enjy.” Grantaire said after a moment.

“Courfeyrac got it for me, it’s better than half the others.” 

“Others like?”

“The Government isn’t the only thing going down tonight.” Enjolras deadpanned. “Or, roses are sometimes red, violets aren’t blue, I’m in love with Patria and that isn’t you.”

“You have t-shirts like that?” Cosette asked, a smile of disbelief on her face.

“Sadly, I do.” It was then that Enjolras remembered she was still there and hastily put on his own top. It said, ‘Do You Want To Build A Barricade?’ in big red letters. 

“Wow, Courfeyrac again?” Grantaire asked, pulling off his own shirt and putting Enjolras’ on. 

“Yup. He gets me them for every Christmas and Birthday, I’ve no idea where from, he probably makes them. I’m going to the bathroom, I’ll be back.” Enjolras replied, he took his trousers off and stood in his red boxers for a moment, then left and headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth. 

“Jesus, Cosette, how can I do this?” Grantaire asked the blond.

“Magic.” She replied. 

“I’ll need all the magic in the world.” 

“Do I need to repeat my earlier words of wisdom?” Cosette asked, then started to recite, “Isn’t it better to have a go and see it explode brilliant-“ 

“No, I know, I’m thinking about it.” Grantaire told her. “I just want to know if there’s a chance he’ll like me back.” 

Cosette couldn’t contain her laughter and Grantaire frowned. 

The phone in his pocket buzzed.

He pulled it out reading the message.

Courfeyrac: Why is Cosette laughing manically?  
Grantaire: I asked her if there was a chance Enjolras would like me back.

 

A few second later he heard Courfeyrac’s hysterical laughter and then Jehan’s. 

He didn’t even bother asking why.

“Just think about what I said.” Cosette told him as she wiped the tears from her eyes.

Enjolras walked back into the room, his eyebrows furrowed in thought as he tied his hair up into a bun, “What are we thinking about?”

“This thing I found on the internet.” 

“I’m going to brush my teeth, goodbye.” Grantaire announced and then fled from the room. His face bright red and his heart beating fast. 

“What thing?” Enjolras asked Cosette, frowning at Grantaire’s strange behaviour.

“This quote from some wise person, it goes: isn’t it better to have a go at a relationship and see it explode brilliantly or see it blossom like a beautiful flower instead of never trying at all and never knowing what it could be like?” She told him, “I like it, but ‘Taire disagreed.” 

Enjolras nodded and thought as he climbed into his bed, “I like it.”

“Really?” Cosette asked, trying to not seem surprised.

“Yeah.” Enjolras nodded.

“Alright, feel free to use it in your everyday life or relationships or whatever.” Cosette said.

“I might. Who said it?”

“It’s just says anonymous.” Cosette shrugged apologetically, “Sorry.” 

“That’s fine.” 

Grantaire re-entered, now changed into Enjolras’ shirt. The blond felt a pang at seeing the top on the brunet, he decided he liked Grantaire in it better then he liked it on him.

“Enjolras liked the quote.” Cosette said smugly.

“Did he?” Grantaire raised an eyebrow as he pulled off his jeans.

“I do.” Enjolras agreed.

“Why?” Grantaire asked as he folded his clothes and left them on the armchair in Enjolras’ room.

“I just do.” Enjolras shrugged.

“Alright.” Grantaire nodded and awkwardly walked to Enjolras’ bed. The blond had pulled back the cover slightly and Grantaire got in. They laid far away from each other, stiff as boards. 

“Night, night, don’t let the bed bugs bite.” Cosette yawned from the floor, as she turned her phone off and snuggled down next to Marius.

“Goodnight.” Enjolras replied stiffly as he leaned forward and turned off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness.

“Night.” Grantaire murmured. 

They laid in awkward silence for a while neither of the two in the bed daring to fall asleep. They heard Cosette’s breathing slow down and even out as she fell asleep, Enjolras rolled over to face Grantaire.

“Grantaire?” Enjolras whispered so quietly Grantaire thought he was hearing things, the he repeated louder, “R?”

“Yeah?” Grantaire replied. 

“You’re still awake then? Enjolras asked.

“That is correct.” 

“I can’t relax.” 

Grantaire chuckled quietly, “Why’s that?”

“I don’t know.” Enjolras answered. 

“Come here.” Grantaire whispered, he rolled over to face Enjolras and the blond practically flung himself at the brunet, Grantaire’s arms automatically wrapping around the lithe blond.

Their noses banged together and Enjolras froze. Their eyes had adjusted and they could see each other, they could see how close they were, Grantaire could feel Enjolras’ breath on his mouth. Their eyes locked together.

Cosette’s words echoed around in both their heads as they waited in limbo to see if they or the other would move in. Instead they realised they didn’t want their first kiss to be in a room with another sleeping couple. Grantaire just pulled Enjolras closer and the blond immediately buried his face in Grantaire’s neck. Their legs got tangled, but it was oddly comforting and Enjolras fell asleep quickly.

 

The Get Enjy and ‘Taire-Bear Together Chat  
Cosette: They’re cuddling, like actually full on snuggled up under the duvet’s cuddling.  
Courfeyrac: Photos please, Cosette.  
Cosette: On it.  
Bahorel: It’s too early to be awake  
Éponine: There are pancakes in the kitchen.   
Éponine: Combeferre made them.  
Bahorel: FOOD YES!   
Cosette Courfeyrac, wherefore art thou?  
Jehan: She’s not asking where he is, she’s asking for what reason is he Romeo.  
Cosette: Sorry Jehan, it’s early.  
Cosette: Let me rephrase.  
Cosette: Where art thou Courfeyrac?  
Musichetta: I can smell boys being gay.  
Musichetta: Also pancakes.   
Musichetta: Cosette, may I also see these photos.   
Courfeyrac: Meeting for the Enjy/’Taire shippers in the kitchen right now.  
Cosette: On my way.  
Musichetta: I’m already there.  
Éponine: And I’ve been here for an hour.  
Feuilly: I need new friends  
Combeferre: If it’s any consolation, Feuilly, I need new friends too.

 

Enjolras woke up with Grantaire’s face pressed against his own, he felt confusion for a moment before he realised what had happened the night before. He relaxed, casting a glance to the air-mattress on the floor next to his bed, Cosette and Marius were nowhere to be seen. He then cast a glance at the clock seeing it was nine o’clock on a Saturday and supressed a groan, not wanting to wake Grantaire. 

Then he looked at Grantaire. 

The cynic’s face looked younger in sleep, like everyone else did without the worries of the day present, he had a soft smile on his face as he dreamt and Enjolras found himself wanting to know what Grantaire dreamt about. Before the blond could stop himself he was running a hand through Grantaire’s messy curls and the cynic pushed himself into the touch. 

“How did I fall for you?” Enjolras mused out loud, he moved his eyes to the ceiling, “You’re everything I didn’t think I’d want but I’ve still fallen for you. You’re loud and pessimistic, you don’t believe in my cause, but you continue to attend every meeting. Everything you say is cryptic, but I love working out what you mean, you infuriate me, but I actually kind of like it.

“And then there are the other things that I like. I like your hair and how messy it is, I like your eyes and your nose, I like that you draw and paint and dance and sing, you’re so talented but you think you’re not. You continue to astound me and I love every argument we have. I just like you.

“And, that’s why, that’s why I avoided you for a month. Because I overheard what you said to Jehan about never even bothering to give us a go. It hurt. I felt like I had been stabbed in the heart and I cried for a week – ‘Ferre and Couf were worried, I could see it in their eyes, because they’d never seen me like that and I hadn’t either. You broke my heart and I had to be away from you so I could mend it again. But then things like this happen and I think there could be a chance, but those words… those words keep echoing around my mind and I know it’s hopeless. I’m not over you and I don’t, I don’t think I can do this anymore, ‘Taire, I can’t be around you and pretend to be a friend because I’m not, I can’t do this.” Enjolras finished, his eyes filling with tears, he laid silently for a while, trying to calm his emotions.

“You’re in love with me?” Grantaire asked, his voice surprisingly clear for someone who had just woke. Enjolras realised Grantaire had been awake for a while and had probably heard everything he had said.

“Shit.” Enjolras said, his face heating.

“You think you’re in love with me?” Grantaire asked again, he moved off of Enjolras and leaned on his elbow, turning his head to look down at the blond.

“There’s no getting out of this, is there?”

“Nope. I heard every word after, ‘how did I fall for you’.” Grantaire replied. 

“Then yes.” Enjolras said, he stared defiantly up at Grantaire, “I know, I am in love with you. Just like I know the sky is blue and the grass is green and that my name is Enjolras, and that I am in love with you. I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable, I won’t act on it if you don’t want me to-“

“How long?” Grantaire asked, “How long have you felt like this?”

“I always knew I liked you, but I can’t pinpoint the moment I fell in love with you.”

“Do our friends know?”

“They do.”

“I am going to kill them.” Grantaire turned and glared at the door, “They knew how I feel and how you feel and then they said nothing.” 

“How you feel?” Enjolras frowned, Grantaire whipped his head back around to Enjolras, there was a blush on his face.

“I also am in love with you and have been since you helped that little old lady across the road and then got that balloon out of a tree for that little girl about two months after I met you.” 

“And they all knew?”

“They did.” 

“I want them all dead.” Enjolras deadpanned.

Grantaire laughed, “They have money on it too.” 

“They do?” Enjolras asked, though Grantaire could see him thinking already, “Want to get revenge on them?”

“How so?” Grantaire raised an eyebrow. 

Enjolras told him his plan and Grantaire agreed.

“Before we put that plan into action, I have a request.”

“And that is?” 

“That I get to kiss you for real this time. No interruptions or need for sleep or heartbreak stopping us.” Enjolras told him, biting his lip and looking into his eyes with an uncertainty, almost like he couldn’t believe it was real, that this moment was actually happening. Grantaire thought it was absolutely adorable, especially the way the blonde bit his bottom lip.

“I feel like that request can be fulfilled.” Grantaire smirked, “though you may need to barricade the doo-“ 

“Just shut up and kiss me.” Enjolras smiled.

And with that, Grantaire complied.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so that was a lot longer than intended.  
> This first of all being a ‘I didn’t know you could dance’ oneshot to this ‘how many times can I make them almost kiss’ oneshot.  
> For the superhero thing (If you can even remember that) I wrote out what I imagined each person’ power would be. I put far too much effort researching to not include it somewhere, so here it is:  
> • Grantaire like Iron Man only his armour was special paper that was almost as strong as Captain France’s shield.  
> • Enjolras is Captain France – like Captain America but yeah…  
> • Cosette can mimic the power of animals and control them with her singing in a weird mash up of every Disney Princess and Animal Man.  
> • Marius can speak and understand any language much like Cypher.  
> • Bossuet has a sonic laugh, like Banshee with her screams only Bossuet had his laughter.  
> • Musichetta is like Storm with control over the weather  
> • Jehan can access any information, reminiscent of Oracle.  
> • Combeferre is Mothman – like Batman but for moths.  
> • Courfeyrac can move ridiculously fast like Quicksilver or The Flash, only he dressed in a rainbow colours.  
> • Bahorel turned into a mix of The Hulk and The Thing when he wanted to fight.  
> • Feuilly is like Black Widow, though his weapons were his fans.  
> • Joly can manipulate people like The Scarlet Witch.  
> • Éponine had invisibility like Invisible Woman.
> 
> Anyway I hope you enjoyed this all!  
> Thank you for reading.


End file.
